The Mad Dog Picnic
by campy
Summary: Fun in the sun with Kim & Ron and the rest of the cheer squad. A rebellion against the Food Chain? Part 5 of the Essential Ronness series.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to the fifth story of my _Essential Ronness_ series. Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? "Why the delay, campy?" you may be asking. (Or not.) You know those authors who are always saying they have tons of story ideas rattling around in their heads, but just can't find the time to write them down? I'm the flip side of that. Time I got plenty of; ideas, not so much.

I'd like to thank all the reviewers of my previous story, _Talking Turkey_: captainkodak1, Zaratan, Ultimate Naco Topping, Louis Mielke, mattb3671, Commander Argus, MrDrP, surforst, conan98002, JPMod, akemi, Cartoonatic, SHADOW DRAGON TWISTER, Cool., Pwn Master Paladin, Taechunsa, Jezrianna2.0, Firestar9mm, and gianluca de duonni.

As always, special thanks to MrDrP for taking the time to beta- and proofread.

Disclaimer: Disney owns Kim Possible, I don't. So don't send me any money, no matter how much you love this story.

_

* * *

_

**_Kim Possible_  
**in

**The Mad Dog Picnic**

(An **_Essential Ronness_** Story)

by  
campy

_It was as predictable as the swallows returning to San Juan Capistrano. Every year, the flyers appeared on the first of July, and within days could be found in shop windows and on community bulletin boards all over town:_

**Middleton Mad Dogs  
****Athletic Boosters Club **

**Annual Picnic **

**Saturday, July 22 **

**Memorial Picnic Grounds **

**Lake Middleton **

**11:00 am — ? **

The good people of Middleton, Colorado were exceptionally proud of their home town. Given the slightest opportunity, they would brag about the futuristic hypersonic aircraft being developed at the renowned Space Center and the superb patient care offered at the equally renowned Medical Center. They boasted about the cutting-edge research conducted by the faculty and students of the Middleton Institute of Technology, and extolled the virtues of the quality foodstuffs produced by the Middleton Pickle Works. And they positively reveled in the plaudits heaped on their most celebrated citizen, the world-famous teen hero Kim Possible.

Middletonians were also fiercely proud and supportive of their Middleton High student athletes.

Every year, the Mad Dog Picnic was _the_ social event of the midsummer. Middleton High athletes past and present would come, many with family members who would grow up to become the Mad Dogs of the future.

There was fun aplenty for all ages throughout the day and on into the evening. An assortment of musical combos would take the stage and play dance music. Tables would be heaped with food, most of it quite tasty. (They always held the picnic during the two weeks Cafeteria Lady spent visiting her sister in Las Vegas.) There were softball and volleyball games, basketball, Frisbee, horseshoes and bocce, and many activities for the children. And after the games, there would be a short program honoring some of the athletes and boosters, and finally a fireworks display.

By tradition, the Middleton High Cheerleaders always led off the awards program with a rousing dance number …

**

* * *

Rockwaller home, Wednesday **

Bonnie Rockwaller was feeling very good about herself.

It was warm and muggy that evening, and Bonnie was glistening. Profusely. She'd just completed a workout on the ballet barre located in her bedroom, her first good ballet workout since returning home from a two-week visit to her dad's house. _I hate spending so much time away from my barre, _she thought as she sipped on a bottle of water._ I really wish I could find a place to work out when I visit Dad. Oh well, at least the gruesome twosome didn't come with this year; that's always a plus. _She checked herself out in the mirror as she toweled off, feeling very pleased with what she was seeing. She smiled a satisfied smile. "Oh yeah, we've still got it," she said to her reflection. All the physical attributes that kept her at the top of Middleton High School's food chain were in place.

Face: smooth and blemish-free. Maybe she wasn't the absolute prettiest girl in school—her squadmates Hope and Marcella had that exotic dark beauty thing going; and outside of the cheer squad the lovely Penny Farthing, she of the beautilicious eyes, was known to turn a head or ten as she glided through the halls—but Bonnie knew how to put on makeup and she knew how to put on attitude, so her classic girl-next-door features were just fine. Next, Hair: again, no problems. While she might sometimes envy her friend Tara for her waist-length platinum blonde curls, and once in a while even (blech!) _Kim Possible_ for that eye-catching red mane of hers, Bonnie's own brunette tresses were subtly highlighted, and styled in an easy-care, 'I just rolled out of bed, and don't you wish you'd been there with me, big guy' cut that suited her to a 'T'.

Then there was her figure. Her smile grew wider. In that department she was truly blessed. Bonnie's body was a wonder of nature; the envy of every girl and the lust object of every boy. She was strong and toned from years of cheerleading and ballet, but still soft and 100 percent feminine, with long, tanned legs and lush curves. _Crystal says the guys at Lake Middleton have all been drooling over K in her tiny bikinis ever since school let out. Well, boys, just you wait 'til the Queen B shows up. You'll realize that less is just … less. _She turned this way and that, checking herself out from all angles. Yes, Bonnie had plenty of reasons to feel good about herself.

She tossed her empty bottle in the wastebasket, blew a kiss to the beauty in the mirror, and headed downstairs to the kitchen for another drink.

Good-bye, good mood. She suddenly found herself face-to-faces with her older sisters, the (fraternal) twin banes of her existence, Connie and Lonnie.

"Oh look, Bonnie's still doing her ballet," Connie said disdainfully.

"I'll bet she wants to dance in the school talent show again next year," Lonnie added.

"Oh, goody. She can lose to some more nerds," Connie continued, "and bring even more shame to the family name."

"Maybe that skinny little girl with the bagpipes will beat her next year," Lonnie suggested as the pair turned and left the kitchen.

"Lonnie, that was a boy," Connie informed her twin.

"A boy? But he was wearing a skirt," Lonnie said, confused.

"No, Sis, that was a kilt, like Mal Gibbon wore in that movie we saw a few years ago, remember?"

Lonnie's reply was too muffled to understand, not that Bonnie cared. She slumped down dejectedly into a chair. Her sisters had once again brought her low, and tomorrow promised to be another downer of a day, with the rehearsal for the cheer squad's picnic performance on tap. With Miss Perfect Kim Possible running the show, of course.

Bonnie Rockwaller was feeling very bad about herself.

**

* * *

Middleton High School Gym, Thursday morning **

"So it's just the five of us?" Tara asked, looking at Kim, Jessica, Liz and Bonnie.

"That's right, Tara," Kim explained. "Hope and Crystal have summer jobs and have to work during the day Saturday, they won't be able to come to the picnic 'til very late, and Marcella is on vacation with the fam. They're in California, visiting Eisnerland."

"Eeuwww," Liz said with a shudder. "You couldn't pay me to go to that place. I hear it's, like, the worst theme park in the history of _ever_."

"Poor Marcella," Jessica said solemnly. The rest of the cheerleaders nodded and murmured their agreement. The quintet observed a moment of silence for their suffering comrade.

"Well, anyway, five of us is a good number for the size of the stage at the picnic grounds," Kim began, rallying her troops.

"Six! Can't forget the mascot!" Ron Stoppable interjected, entering the gym and coming up behind his girlfriend, Kim. He wrapped his hands around her waist and nuzzled her auburn hair, prompting smiles and sighs from Tara, Liz and Jessica.

"Maybe if he'd _go away_ we could try," Bonnie muttered, a grimace on her face.

"What is your ish, Bonnie?" Kim said with a snarl. "You know the fans really love Ron's 'Mad Dog' act."

"It's stupid and lame," the brunette began, "and I thi–"

_beep beep be-beep_

The Kimmunicator sounded its call to action. Kim held up a hand to cut off Bonnie's reply as she retrieved the device from her pocket.

"Wait one, Bonnie. What's the sitch, Wade?"

"Kim, Ron, we just got a hit on the site. Chester Yapsby is at it again. He's breeding a swarm of giant mosquitoes in the Florida Everglades and threatening to unleash them on Miami. I can have a ride for you in ten minutes."

"We're on it, Wade." Kim signed off.

"Okay, ladies, Ron and I have to go. Can we do this tomorrow instead?"

"No, Kim, today is the only day we can get together before Saturday." Liz whined. "If we don't work out our dance today, we won't be able to perform at the picnic."

Bonnie saw her chance. With Kim gone, she could take her rightful place as leader—at least for a day. "Why don't I take charge here while you and the loser go off to swat flies, K?" she said. "I do have the most dance experience of any of us."

Kim looked at the other three girls; no one else seemed to want to step up.

"All right, Bonnie. You choreograph something and the four of you can rehearse it today. We'll all meet at the lake at, say, ten Saturday; that'll leave an hour for Ron and me to learn our parts and for all of us to run through it a couple of times on stage before the picnic starts. There will be parts for us, right, Bonnie?"

"Don't worry, K," Bonnie said with a smirk. "Somebody has to be at the bottom of the pyramid."

**

* * *

A small airfield in central Florida, later that day **

"Thanks for letting us wait in your office, Mr. Carruthers. Wade says our ride home will be here in twenty minutes."

"You kidding me?" the airport boss said with a grin. "Having _the_ Kim Possible here at my little old airport is just about the most exciting thing that's happened in these parts for a dog's age."

"Don't forget Ron and Rufus," Kim said. "We're a team."

"Sure, Don and Lucas too," the older man said. "You kids relax and stay outta the heat, and help yourselves to some soda pops from the cooler over there if ya get thirsty. I'll be in that hanger across the runway if ya need me." He looked back at the two young people as he headed out the door. "Don't y'all do anything I wouldn't do!" he said with a wink.

Ron looked around the tiny FBO office; the battered wooden desk with its antique rotary-dial telephone, the dun-colored linoleum floor, the panelboard walls hung with numerous photographs of aircraft from many eras, from early biplanes through World War II and beyond. Intrepid young aviators clad in leather jackets and pleated khaki trousers stood grinning next to their machines in some of them. (Had Kim and Ron examined the photos closely, they might have noticed that one of the aviators was a young woman who bore a striking resemblance to Dr. James T. Possible.) High on the wall, an ancient air conditioner rattled and hummed as it struggled against the oppressive Florida heat and humidity.

"That was one of our easier missions, KP," he observed, settling back on the patched and worn vinyl sofa.

"Yeah, it's not like Chester's much of a fighter," Kim said, joining him. "Once we stopped his mosquito larvae he had nuthin'. And you were so clever to figure out that pouring Diablo sauce over the swamp would destroy the larvae without hurting the ecosystem. Eight thousand packets of Diablo sauce. But I still want to know how you even knew that old Bueno Nacho warehouse was nearby."

"'Sha, KP, I was an assistant manager for a while, remember?"

"Of course I remember that, Ron; I was there. Nobody who had to live by your bathroom break chart will ever forget it. But what does that have to do with—"

"It's right there in the Bueno Nacho Standard Operating Procedures, Kimila. Section Four, Paragraph nine, Subparagraph G is quite clear. Quote: 'All Restaurant Managers and Assistant Managers will commit to memory the street addresses and telephone numbers, both voice and facsimile, of the six (6) Regional Supply Facilities geographically nearest to the location of their Restaurant.' Close quote."

"And you have all of that in your head after all this time?" Kim asked incredulously.

"That and more, KP. Now you know why I have so much trouble with schoolwork." He rapped his skull a few times with his knuckles. "No room at the inn."

"C'mon Ron, we both know you can do schoolwork when you apply yourself. Look how well you did on the Latin final. I'm sure all this useless stuff like BN SOP and old video game cheat codes you're carrying around would fade away if you studied."

"Excuse me, 'useless stuff'? If I had forgotten that address, mosquitoes the size of fighter planes would be buzzing Miami as we speak. And, more important," he added, patting the cardboard box next to him, "we wouldn't have this case of the discontinued Five Alarm sauce I found in that pile of stuff they were throwing away."

Rufus popped his head out of Ron's cargo pocket. "Ahem!" he protested, gesticulating indignantly.

"Sorry, little buddy, you found."

Kim shook her head and sighed. "There has got to be a flaw in that logic somewhere, but I don't want to think about it right now." She slid closer to him, pressing her body against his as she began nibbling at his right ear. "We only have a little time until our ride gets here, we should probably put it to a better use," she purred seductively.

Ron grinned and put his hands around Kim's waist, pulling her close and giving her a kiss that she felt right down to her toes.

"Ho brother," Rufus said, before scampering off to watch for their ride.

After a long while they stopped for breath; Ron's hands returned to his girlfriend's bare midriff. (_Returned? Where did they go during the kiss?_ Sorry, the narrator was cleaning his eyeglasses during that part.) He pulled back and let his eyes roam up and down her trim figure, then gazed into her emerald green orbs and grinned the most roguish version of his goofy grin, the one that Kim had grown to love over the past weeks.

"Y'know, KP, as hot as you look in the supersuit, there's still a lot to be said for the ol' Kimstyle. Though I think I liked it even better right after you fell in the swamp and were soaking wet."

Kim playfully punched him in the shoulder, and then the pair fooled around some more until their ride arrived.

* * *

So, that's chapter 1. In chapter 2, Bonnie hears some surprising news about her squadmates and her beloved 'food chain.' Stay tuned. 


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome to chapter two; my longest chapter ever at 3507 words before I started keying in these remarks. I'm getting downright verbose in my old age.

Thanks to all who took the time to read chapter one; and especially to charizardag, JPMod, MrDrP, conan98002, spectre666, TheBaldOneMpls, momike, Amarin Rose, Commander Argus, SHADOW DRAGON TWISTER, Ultimate Naco Topping, Talitha Koum, mattb3671, and Skyagent who reviewed.

Many many thanks to the most spankin'est beta reader ever, MrDrP. You should go read all of his stuff if you haven't already … oh, who am I kidding?

Another recommendation: _A Revision in Time_, a very fine AU Supreme One tale by a relative newcomer to the site, Talitha Koum.

**Disclaimer: **Disney owns Kim Possible and every other character used in this chapter.**

* * *

**

**_Kim Possible_  
**in

**The Mad Dog Picnic**

(An **_Essential Ronness_** Story)

by  
campy

**Chapter Two**

**Possible home, Saturday, 9:30 am**

Kim had just finished her last spoonful of cereal when she heard the front door open. She quickly got up from the table and set her empty bowl in the sink just as Ron walked into the Possibles' kitchen. "Good morning, lovely Possible ladies!" he said flamboyantly.

"Hi, Ron! Glad you're here. Let me just grab my backpack and we can get going!" Kim said.

"Kimmie! Slow down!" Ann Possible chided. "Maybe Ron would like some breakfast first. How are you, Ron?"

"Mmm, pancakes! Yum yum!" Rufus chirped, popping his head out of Ron's pocket. The naked mole rat scampered up to Ron's shoulder, then leapt onto the table and began to devour the stack of pancakes that Kim's mom set in front of him.

"Mom, we don't have time; we have to get to the picnic grounds. I need to find out what Bonnie did to my squad behind my back while Ron and I were in Florida."

"I'm doing great — Mrs. Dr. P," Ron said, slipping an arm around Kim's waist and giving her a peck on the cheek. "And thanks for the offer, but KP's right; we should probably get a move on. I already had breakfast at home."

"Ronald," James Possible, who had just entered the kitchen behind the teens, said. "How are you this morning? We still on for that game of horseshoes at the picnic?"

Ron attempted to discretely remove his hand from Kim's exposed stomach. Kim, though, was having none of that. She caught his escaping hand with her own and held it in place. She smiled and greeted her father. "Morning, Daddy!"

James was now pouring himself a mug of coffee.

"Uh, hi, Mr. Dr. P," Ron said hesitantly. "Yeah, I'm, uh, really looking forward to horseshoes."

James turned to look at the teens, taking in Kim's beaming smile and Ron's self-conscious one. He dropped his gaze to the hand firmly pressed to his daughter's waist, but maintained an only slightly forced-looking smile of his own.

"Outstanding," he said, before taking a sip of his coffee. "I do love to fling heavy pieces of iron about," he continued. "Gotta be careful, though. Those bad boys can really hurt a fellow if they get away from you."

"Heh heh, yeah, they sure can," Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Well, we should get a move on, KP. C'mon, little buddy." Kim finally released Ron's hand so he could scoop up the carbo-loaded rodent and deposit him back in his pocket.

The two teens left the kitchen and headed on out the door, pausing only to grab the backpack containing Kim's cheer uniform and other essentials for the long day ahead.

Kim's mom's car, which she'd asked to borrow for the drive to the lake, was parked in the driveway. Kim started for the driver's-side door, but Ron held her back.

"Ron, what are y–" she started to say, before he pulled her into the sheltering privacy of the shadows and covered her mouth with his own in a fervent kiss. Kim let her pack fall to the ground and melted into his arms, pressing her body against his. Ron ran his large hands up along her sides and back and sent them down again, all the way to her Club Banana shorts-encased bottom. Kim reached up and stroked his big ears and ran her fingers through his straw-blond locks; he kneaded her firm, round muscles. Kim let out a muffled "mmff" of pleasure and pressed herself even harder against him, forcing him back against the rough stone foundation wall as she amped up the passion level of the kiss, until even climatological research satellites orbiting hundreds of miles above detected the sudden surge of heat.

"Ahh. Now that's what I call a 'good morning' kiss!" sighed Kim once their lips finally parted.

"The Ron-man aims to please," he responded.

"Hoosha! Total score!" came a voice from the backseat of the car. "Pay up, Bro." Two faces popped up in the rear window, identical save for contrasting expressions.

"You Tweebs!" Kim snarled. "What are you doing in there?"

"We had a bet," the happy twin explained. "Jim said you guys would start smooching after you got in the car …"

"… and _he_ said you'd start as soon as you got out the door," Jim said sourly. "You cost me a buck, Sis," he added with a scowl.

"Actually, the way I remember it, it was Ron who cost you your dollar. And do you two little pervs also have a bet about which one of you I'll eviscerate first when I get my hands on you?" Kim asked, arms crossed.

"Uh, gotta go!" the twins said in unison, before scrambling out of the car and disappearing into the house.

Kim retrieved her backpack and they got in the car.

"You know, Kimbo, Jim had a good idea there. I'm all about smoochies in the car." He leaned toward her, lips puckered.

Kim playfully put up a hand to fend off his advance. "Ron, what's with you this morning? You acted so tense around my dad in the kitchen, and suddenly you're Mister Make-out?"

"Tense? _Moi?_ Oh, no no no, Kimila, you've got it all wrong. We were just having some fun with each other. We have an understanding now, your dad and me; we're like a couple of architects."

"You're like … architects?"

"Yeah, you know, he's the 'Overprotective Father' and I'm the 'Guy on the Make' trying to take advantage of his 'Sweet, Virginal Daughter'—that'd be you. It's like we're characters in a kookie play."

"Architects … in a koo– … Ron, I think you mean a _Kabuki _play. And the word is arche_types_, not archi_tects_."

"Oh, yeah, you're right. Not kookie,_ Kabuki_. But we're not architects?"

"No, arche_types_."

"_Noh?_ I thought it was _Kabuki?_ There's a difference, y'know. At least, Master Lunch Lady at Yamanouchi says there is. She tried to explain it to me once, but I was majorly hungry at the time, and between that and her accent I found it hard to concentrate—"

"Ngggh." Kim rapped her forehead on the steering wheel in exasperation. "Ron, just fasten your seat belt, okay? We'll find a place to be alone sometime today; let's just head to the lake now. I don't want to give Bonnie one more second alone with my squad."

**Picnic Grounds, 10:50 am**

As the last few measures of the song blared out of the boom box, the six dancers quickly moved into position. Two girls dropped to their hands and knees; the Mad Dog did the same between them. Two more girls took up places on the backs of this trio. Finally, the remaining girl sprang and flipped to the top of the pyramid precisely on cue and then flung her arms out in an exultant gesture, a dazzling smile on her face.

She held her pose for a few beats, then nimbly hopped down and turned to face her squadmates. "Okay, that was almost acceptable. Let's take two and then run through it one more time." Bonnie then spun on her heel and went to her gym bag for a water bottle.

Jessica, Tara and Liz disengaged themselves and followed suit. Ron pulled off his Mad Dog mask and sat cross-legged. Kim lay with her head in his lap, smiling up at him.

Bonnie turned around and groaned at the sight. "Kim, when are you going to come to your senses and dump that loser? You're bringing the whole squad's image down. You really should try to find yourself a quality boyfriend for senior year. Someone higher on the Food Chain."

Kim sprang furiously to her feet and went nose-to-nose with the tanned brunette. "Ron is NOT a loser, Bonnie, he's a great boyfriend! And I am sooo sick of hearing about your stupid Food Chain! Nobody but you takes it seriously anyway."

"So not true, K. All of us …" she indicated the other three girls, "understand how vitally important it is. We cheerleaders are, like, the elite of the school. We have a standard to live up to. And the way we do that is to date sports stars, or other hottie guys like Josh Mankey are acceptable too. That's why I went to the prom with Brick, and why Jess is dating Steve the baseball captain, and Tara's dating the basketball star …"

As Bonnie lectured, she failed to notice the awkward looks Tara, Liz and Jess were exchanging. Finally, Tara spoke up. "Um, actually, Bonnie," the curvaceous blonde interrupted tentatively, "Jason and I broke up right around the time you went to your dad's. I'm sorta … with … Kevin now."

"Kevin? Who's Kevin? I don't know any Kevin on any of the sports teams."

"Kevin Guberman. The captain of the chess team."

"Chess?" Bonnie said, infusing the word with an ocean of disdain. "You have got to be kidding me. That's, like, total nerd city."

"Yes, Bonnie, _chess_," Tara continued, irritation overriding the deference she customarily showed to Bonnie. "I loved chess when I was a little girl. My grandpa taught me how to play, and I used to play with him all the time when he was alive. But when we got to junior high I started to feel like I couldn't do stuff like that any more or people like you would make fun of me. Then after the prom when Kim and Ron started dating, I decided I didn't have to do only 'cool' stuff anymore. When we were having all those rainy days I spent some time in this on-line teen chat site 'cause Jason was always ditching me to go off with his 'hoops' buddies, and I started playing against Kevin on the computer, then we started getting together at his house and then about a week ago we …"

"Mated?" Jessica offered with a titter.

"… _kissed!"_ Tara said, blushing crimson. "Kevin's really nice and I like him."

"Wait, hold the phone. I am not believing what I'm hearing. You, Tara, playing … chess?"

"That's right, Bonnie. I know you think of me as a total ditz, but I play, and I'm pretty good at it, too. I even beat Kevin two out of three games yesterday when we were at his house."

"Uh, Tara," Liz interrupted, "when you went to Kevin's, were you still wearing that halter top I saw you in yesterday? With the spaghetti straps and the shirred bodice?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," Liz replied, stifling a laugh.

Ron shook his head in bemusement and muttered, "Now that's the way to be a distrac– OW!" He put a hand to the back of his head where Kim had just swatted him. "What was that for, KP?"

"Anyway," Tara went on, "maybe you should tell Bonnie what's new with _your_ love life now, Liz."

"What?" Bonnie gasped, still struggling to absorb Tara's news. "Aren't you still dating that hockey player?"

"No, we broke up," the petite redhead stated. "I started dating Arnold Custer."

"Arnie? From the debate team?" Kim asked. "He's a good guy; Ron and I used to play with him back in grade school. Way to go, Liz!"

"Arnie always did have a thing for redheads," Ron observed.

"What can I say," Liz said with a grin, "he talked me into it."

"Bet he's good with his tongue," Jessica stage-whispered to Tara, who giggled and blushed again.

"She's not prone to argue," Tara whispered back.

"Debate?" Bonnie said. "Chess? Is everyone here crazy but me? Jess, please tell me you're still with Steve Farley."

"Yes, Bonnie, I'm still dating Steve …" Jessica replied, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, thank you. One sane person at least."

"… but that's because he's a really sweet guy and he's a lot of fun to be with."

All the girls, even Kim, eyed the willowy blonde dubiously.

"Okay, okay, he's a hottie too, and no way is _that_ a bad thing, but as for the sports? Feh," she waved her hand dismissively. "I couldn't care less if he was the star shortstop or the batboy."

"Wha–?" Bonnie's mouth continued to move, but no more recognizable words emerged.

"In fact, he told me just the other day he's thinking of not playing any fall or winter sport next year. He wants to audition for the musical instead. The drama club is going to put on _Camelot_."

"Ah, _Camelot:_ a very Mr. B choice," Ron mused aloud. "The man is all about the classics."

"It's true!" Rufus averred. "It's true!"

"Ooh, Steve would make _such_ a dreamy Lancelot, Jess!" Tara gushed.

"Mmm hmm, I can totally see that boy in tights," said Liz with a sigh.

"Hey, y'know what? You should try out too, Jess!" Kim insisted, beaming. "I've heard you sing; you'd be a beautiful Guinevere. I'm sure we could work cheer practices around the rehearsal schedule."

"Ya think? Wow, that'd be badical! Thanks, Kim!" Jessica's freckled face took on a love-struck expression as she pictured herself dressed in a long, flowing gown, being wooed (away from her lawfully wedded husband and King—but let's not dwell on that little detail right now) by a handsome knight.

"No big," Kim replied.

Bonnie finally found her voice again. "You people are playing me, I know it. Chess, debate, and now the musical? I so cannot believe what I'm hearing. What's next, a band geek? A, a _mathlete_?"

"Now that you mention it, Bonnie," Tara piped up, "Hope told me …"

That was the last straw for Bonnie. She ran offstage holding her hands over her ears and screaming "Aaaaaahhhhhuuuuugggg!"

The four girls looked at each other. "I'd better go after her," Tara said, shaking her head in resignation. Liz and Jess gathered up their gear and wandered off, and Kim sat down next to Ron again.

"Well, so much for our last run-through." Kim sighed. "Poor Bonnie; that was quite a shock for her."

"Like the End of the Universe as She Knew It."

"Well, Bonnie's pretty resilient. I'm sure she'll recover in time for our dance. A chance to be on top of a pyramid is a powerful motivation."

"I still can't believe she stuck you on the bottom, and practically offstage for the whole number, KP. Wait, yes I can. She's Bonnie."

"So not the drama, Ron. I really don't mind. I've gotta give Bonnie her props, the dance she came up with is spankin'. I really should try to get her to choreograph more for us next year; we'd wow them at regionals with a number like this. And she deserves to be front and center in it; she's a terrific dancer."

"No better than you, KP. Plus, the prettiest girl should be center stage so all the guys can see her easily."

"Oh, please. Bonnie and Tara are the ones who have the 'assets' to really sell that dance. No one's gonna be paying any attention to my lemons with their melons just a few feet away," Kim scoffed.

Ron looked lost. _Huh? When did we start talking about fruit?_ he wondered. _Or is it 'fruits'?_ Then the fog lifted and he reddened.

"Heeyyy! No dissing my bon-diggity GF!" he scolded. "You have a gorgeous body, Kim," he added with a leer. "And look on the bright side: you won't have back problems in a few years like they will. My mom's, uh, kinda …" he cupped his hands in front of his chest, looking extremely embarrassed, "and she complains about it a lot."

"Thanks, Ronnie, you're sweet. But I still feel like a tall ten year old next to Bonnie and Tara sometimes."

"Don't forget Crystal. She's got a real nice … uh … not that _I_ … uh … I … I should just shut up now, shouldn't I?"

Kim glared at him, looking hurt and miffed.

Somewhat to her surprise, though, Ron didn't continue to babble and grovel. He met her gaze steadily, with what she was coming to think of as his 'confident Ron' grin on his face. "Oh no, Kimberly Ann; don't you give me that look," he said evenly. "Just 'cause you didn't consider me a 'guy' until prom night doesn't mean I wasn't one. I noticed girls, just like you noticed every 'pretty boy' for miles around."

_Ron is standing up to me!_ Kim thought. (Also, on a more subliminal level, _Confident Ron is _so_ hot!_) Her expression softened. She reached out and began to stroke his cheek. "Okay, you're right, Ron, I was so the fool. You were always a guy, and I'm really glad you're _my_ guy now. Now," she continued in a sultry voice, "how about you give me some of that Ronshine and make me feel like a woman."

He leaned in and tenderly kissed her. Kim responded; the kiss intensified, until …

"Possible! Stoppable! PDA ceases, NOW!"

Kim and Ron looked up to see Mr. Barkin looming over them, dressed in a crisply pressed Middleton High polo shirt and khaki shorts.

The two teens got to their feet. "Uh, Mr. Barkin?" Ron said. "It's a Saturday, it's summer vacation, and we're miles from the school."

"Stoppable, allow me to apprise you of some pertinent facts. The Boosters Club is a school-chartered organization, therefore this picnic is a school function, therefore you are under my authority while you are a participant in said function. I can and will place you in detention for any violation of school policies if I deem it appropriate. Are we clear?"

"Y–yes, Mr. B."

"Just to make sure, maybe I'd better give you this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. He thrust it at Ron.

"Extra homework? Aw, man! Hey, wait a second, this is blank!"

He looked up and saw the sly grin on the big man's face and the twinkle in his eye. "Ooh, you got me good, Mr. B."

"Nice job down in Florida the other day, Stoppable. That was thinking outside the box." He slapped Ron on the back; the blonde lad winced from the force of the blow. "Glad to see you using the old noodle for a change. At least, I assume the 'Rod Stonetable' the news media were talking about was really you."

"_What?"_ Kim fumed. "Those _idiots_ got Ron's name wrong AGAIN? I do not believe this! We went over it and over it and … and now you're playing _me_, aren't you, Mr. Barkin?"

"That's right, Possible. They got his name right—at least, two out of the three that I saw did. That Labowski woman …" he shook his head grimly. "She was not hired for her brains.

"Anyhoo, I just wanted to make sure you were looking out for your partner. That's vital, Possible. Always remember that."

Kim wrapped her arms around Ron's shoulders and hugged him protectively. "Count on it, Mr. Barkin," she said assuredly.

The ex-military man nodded and walked away.

Kim and Ron collected their gear and moved it to the small dressing room behind the stage where the girls would change before their dance. Then they joined some volunteers who were starting to set up tables and lay out the food. (Carrying a tray of deviled eggs from someone's car to a table was a task suited to Kim's culinary talents.)

While they worked Kim continued to think about the Bonnie sitch. After a while she spoke up.

"I definitely think I should ask Bonnie to plan some more dances for us next year, Ron. She's really good at it."

"I dunno, Kim. Why would she go for that? Bon-Bon's never been one for taking on extra work, especially without getting all the credit for it."

Kim mulled that over. "Maybe she'd be willing if I offered her co-captain."

"Bonnie and you? Co-captains? Wait, I'm confused. Just an hour ago you were breaking speed limits so we could get here before Bonnie got two more minutes of running your squad. Now you want to just hand her co-captain?"

"Oh, come on. I can do anything, remember? I'm sure I could keep her in line … at least I think I could …"

"Keep Bonnie in line? I seem to recall you once called her the 'bossiest person on the planet,' KP. 'She wouldn't settle for _chair_, she'd want _throne_,' you said. I believe the words 'controlling' and 'devious' were bandied about, too."

"Look, Ron, Bonnie's … I can't say too much—it's not my place—but when she and I were stuck to each other I found out some things. She's got stuff in her home life; maybe this would help her with it …

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe you're right," she said. "I need to think about this some more … Hey, look, our families are here."

Ron laid his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Whatever you decide, KP, you know I've got your back."

_to be continued …_

* * *

Before I go, I'd like to give you all a piece of advice: If you drink, drink responsibly. Always designate a driver; never drink and drive. And if you absolutely insist on drinking and driving, please, at the very least, keep your car out of my living room. I'd appreciate it. Thank you.

_campy_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note:_ I'd figured this for three chapters, but it turns out we're in for another. Today it's a day of fun and frivolity for the Possible and Stoppable clans, and you're welcome to come with. Bring sunscreen.

Thanks to MrDrP, AtomicFire, conan98002, JPMod, SHADOW DRAGON TWISTER, momike, kemiztri, Ultimate Naco Topping, Zaratan, Amarin Rose, roycereece, mattb3671, and Commander Argus for reviewing chapter 2, and thanks to everyone who read it.

Two individuals deserve special thanks: MrDrP for beta reading, and my _sMITe_ homey for technical assistance with the Ultimate game. Cookies to both.

_Disclaimer: _The only thing I own is the computer I typed this on. Disney owns all the rest.

* * *

**_Kim Possible_  
**in

**The Mad Dog Picnic**

(An **_Essential Ronness_** Story)

by  
campy

**Chapter Three**

Soon more families began to arrive and the festivities began in earnest. Almost all Middleton High athletes and their families were in attendance. As usual, it was a glorious summer day; the weather was always perfect on Picnic Saturday. Middletonians liked to joke that Mother Nature herself had to be a Mad Dog Booster.

The Possibles and Stoppables made plans to split up and re-form into a variety of combinations throughout the day to take part in various activities. Ron and James had their friendly game of horseshoes, without mishap. All three couples managed to make time for a couple of turns around the dance floor. And they took part in a variety of athletic activities. Well, not so much Ron, except for the horseshoes—he still had bad memories from the week he'd tried out for every single varsity team at MHS.

Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable played bocce with Jim and Tim. Until the tweebs' chicanery was exposed, that is …

* * *

"Possibles, you're goin' down!" the big man roared. 

Jim turned to his twin. "Hicka-bicka-boo?"

"Hoo-sha!" Tim replied. They turned to flee the field, but not quickly enough.

Steve Barkin grabbed the two miscreants by the scruffs of their identical necks and held fast.

"Nobody sneaks remote-controlled electromagnetic bocce balls into competition on my watch," he lectured. "Did you think we forgot about the shuffleboard discs last year? I've had Justine Flanner scanning for any illicit radio frequency transmissions all day.

"Let me tell you boys something: Steve Barkin is tough, but fair. I brought the hammer down on your sister when she had it coming to her, and I'll do the same to you if you ever make it to my school. From now on, I'll be keepin' an eye on you two. _Capisce?"_

"Yes, Mr. Barkin," the twins chorused.

"And don't you give me those funny looks, either."

* * *

It wasn't all playtime for the Possibles and Stoppables at the picnic—there was also volunteer work entertaining the younger children. Ron and Mrs. Dr. P spent some time helping the younger children with arts and crafts. ("Just my bizzo with the chizzo surgical skills, Ron," Ann replied when the one-time Lanyard King of Wannaweep enthused over her badical knot-tying abilities.) The cheerleaders held an instructional clinic throughout the afternoon; naturally, Kim was the first to sign up to coach for an hour. Ron took the opportunity to spend the same hour on Kosher Dilly duty, and he and Gherkin were a huge hit with the littlest tykes. 

As he was heading back to the dressing room at the end of his stint, he passed by the cheer clinic. Kim wasn't there, but when Tara noticed him, she sent one of the little girls scurrying after him.

"Kosher Dilly! Kosher Dilly! Wait up! I have something for you."

She ran up to him and handed him a folded piece of paper. "Um, theladytoldmetogiveyouthis," she blurted out, and then ran away.

Ron unfolded it; it was a note, unsigned, but written in a familiar feminine hand: "_Kosher Dilly – Come to the big tree behind the Pavilion. (But lose the pickle suit first),_" he read aloud.

Ron handed the suit off to Jason Morgan, his successor, and did as instructed.

When he reached the tree, there was no one in sight. He looked around, confused. Suddenly he heard a rustling in the leaves above his head.

He glanced up just in time to see a redheaded blur quickly descending on a line from the tree. Kim wrapped an arm around him, toggled the rewind switch on the side of her grapple gun, and the next thing Ron knew he was being yanked off his feet and drawn up into the foliage. Seconds later, he found himself about thirty feet above the ground, sitting on a fabric platform, which he recognized as part of Team Possible's mission gear, strung securely between two sturdy branches.

He looked at Kim, who was staring back at him wide-eyed and gape-mouthed and blushing beet red. "Well," she finally said, "I was about to ask if you had a pickle in your pocket, but since you don't have any pockets I'll assume you're just happy to see me!" She then dissolved into an epic giggle fit.

_No pockets? But that means … Oh, snap!_ Ron looked down. His pants had gone AWOL somewhere between the ground and the platform. He looked over the side; there they were, snagged on a branch about five feet below.

"Aw, man! Kim, help – me – get them …" he strained to reach, but was pulled back.

"Ron, stop that, you're gonna fall. Don't worry, we'll get them on the way down," she said. "We have about fifteen minutes before we have to meet the 'rents; and for what I have in mind, you don't need pants."

"C'mon, KP! I'm in my _Wonder Weasel_ boxers here!" Ron protested.

"Oh relax, Ronnie, they're cute! Now c'mon, it's Ronshine time."

They lay down in the makeshift tree house and began to get cozy, when Kim had a thought. She started to sit up.

"Hey, maybe we should get your pants, Ron, and make sure Rufus is okay," she said.

Ron pulled her back down. "Don't worry about Rufus, he's fine. He wasn't even with me. He decided to stay for another hour as Gherkin with Jason."

"Let me guess: free samples?"

"Oh yeah, and this year they also brought these really good pickle-shaped cookies, with green icing. Talk about badical snackage!"

"Mmmm, snackage …" she murmured, pulling him close and caressing and nibbling on those delectable ears of his.

* * *

All eight of the Possible/Stoppable group met up at the beach for a game on the sand volleyball court. There they were joined by Liz and her new BF, and were observed by another cheerleader … 

Bonnie was still a little upset about the cracks in the Food Chain's foundation (to mix a metaphor), but she was well on the way to recovery. Basking in the radiant summer sunshine and the male attention, she laughed and flirted with a flock of admirers. Not seriously, she was still more-or-less with Brick—until he left for college next month, at least—but just as a matter of form.

The banter doesn't bear repeating here. None of the boys involved was a master of witty repartee, so it was clichéd and hackneyed at best; and their ability to speak coherently at all tended to desert them whenever Bonnie casually adjusted a strap on her bikini, or brought straw to full, sensual lips to sip on her iced soy decaf latte—or when an oily, glistening bead of moisture set off on the long, meandering journey across the swelling mound of a breast and down into the tantalizing depths of her bountiful cleavage …

No, we shall instead concern ourselves with a woman's most fascinating feature, her mind.

Only a very tiny portion of Bonnie's mind was focused on her flirting; that was mostly running on autopilot. The rest was split between mulling over what she had learned that morning and observing the action on the volleyball court. And such interesting action it was …

"Hold on there, Kimmie-cub," James Possible said from his position behind his daughter. "You've got something caught in your hair." He reached over and pulled the object out. "Hmm. Looks like a twig."

"Oh, uh, thanks, Daddy," Kim replied. "I, um, can't imagine how that could have gotten there."

James looked over at Ron, who was rubbing his face and averting his eyes.

"Uh huh," the rocket scientist said flatly. Mrs. Stoppable, Mrs. Dr. P, Liz and Arnie seemed very close to bursting into laughter. Mr. Stoppable shrugged his shoulders.

_Why, that little redheaded hussy! _Bonnie thought. _She and that loser were getting hot and heavy in the woods! _She shook her head in bemusement.

She then turned her attention to Liz and Arnie. _Arnie Custer: debate team. Middle of the food chain at best. Nowhere near suitable for a cheerleader to date._ She glanced over at Liz and Arnie on the beach volleyball court, just as Arnie hit the ball into the net. _We–e–ell, let's not be hasty, Bonnie … The boy is no jock,_ she thought, _but he actually isn't bad looking. The new haircut is okay. And it looks like he's been doing some push-ups, or something. And thank God he ditched those dorky taped-up glasses he was always wearing for a nice fashionable pair. He's at least hanging around on the outskirts of hottie-ville. Maybe contacts would help? _As she considered the issue, Ann's serve flew over the net and hit Arnie in the head, knocking his glasses off, to the good-natured merriment of both teams. _Nah, the glasses work, _she decided.

_Okay, maybe Liz isn't as crazy as I thought. The guy's okay, at least for a summer fling. But Tara? With that scrawny chess nerd? So not going to last, _she resolved._ I need to do something about that, and soon. I should manipulate Josh, or maybe one of these froobs here, into making a play for her. But which one?_

What Bonnie had yet to learn was that Kevin, though small of stature, was quite the scrapper. Chess is a game of war, after all, and Tara's new beau had the heart of a warrior. And at that very moment, he was in the process of demonstrating that in a pick-up game of Ultimate Frisbee …

* * *

One point from victory. Tara held the disc, pivoting this way and that, trying to find a way around the six-foot-tall volleyball player guarding her. _Oh come _on_, how many arms does this girl have? _she asked herself, frustrated. A few yards away, her six teammates and six more opponents jostled for position. She caught sight of Kevin near the end zone. His gray-blue eyes met her azure orbs. She glanced to her right, then back at him; he grinned slyly: _Message received._ He broke for the right corner. She faked hard. _A gap! _She threw to her left. The disc sailed high over eleven pairs of outstretched hands—but not straight. It was curving, curving, across the end zone, close to where Kevin was hurrying. 

_Oh no! He tripped! Kevin!_

Kevin was down, but he wasn't out. Scrambling on hands and knees, he somehow managed to lunge, laying his body out full-length, and catch the fluttering disc barely six inches from the ground. Game point! His teammates thrust their fists in the air and cheered lustily.

Kevin got to his feet just in time for Tara to leap into his arms and reward him with a congratulatory embrace—one that quickly developed into a passionate lip-lock that had the spectators whooping and cheering, and Mr. Barkin looking for a bucket of ice water to cool the pair off with. From that moment on, Kevin—or 'G-man' as they began calling him—had all the street cred a guy could ever want.

* * *

Late in the afternoon, Kim and her dad joined a softball game that was one of the biggest events of the Picnic. It featured some of the school's top athletes and some coaches, especially of the varsity baseball and girls' softball teams, and it always drew a large throng of spectators. A nail-biter all the way, the Possibles' side led by a single run in the final inning …

* * *

The shortstop moved to his left and speared the one-hop grounder. He set himself and gently underhanded the ball to his second baseman, who gathered it in, stepped on the base to put out the lumbering Brick Flagg, and then leapt into the air for a spinning, twisting front flip, avoiding the big blond's slide while somehow simultaneously firing a perfect peg to first baseman Danny Hu for the game-ending double play. The crowd went wild. 

The losers slunk away frustrated; the winners gathered in the infield and exchanged fist bumps and high-fives.

"Nice play, Kim," Steve Farley said admiringly, "I wish we had you on the varsity. Where did you ever learn to turn the DP like that? And you're way cuter than my usual partner, Tom Watt."

"It's no big," Kim replied, "it's just like a move we used in the cheer regionals last year, only we used pompoms instead of a ball. And you should really thank Ron. If it weren't for him, I'd still think baseball was all about going to the cage bats!"

When the right fielder finally trotted in to join his younger teammates, Steve shook his hand warmly. "Great job cutting off that ball and holding Brick to a single, Dr. Possible. You saved the game."

"Thanks, Steven," Dr. Possible replied. "I had to really step it up a notch; I was playing with a couple of fine outfielders." He indicated his cohorts, the Mad Dogs' soccer goalie Julian Wye in left and MHS art teacher/softball coach Belinda 'Bee' Cawze, who'd covered centerfield.

He looked at his watch. "Kimmie, don't you need to get ready for the show soon?"

"Oh, right. Thanks, Dad."

"I'll walk over with you," Steve offered. "Jess should be there finishing up at the junior cheer clinic now."

As they left the field, Kim exchanged high-fives with a short, cocoa-skinned girl. "Hey, great pitching there, Tamara," she said.

When they reached the Pavilion, Jessica was winding up the clinic, with Ron helping her.

"Kim, you owe me big-time," the blonde girl said, a twinkle in her blue eyes. "I had my hands full keeping those little girls from throwing themselves at your man, let me tell you. I hope you kept the other girls away from mine," she joked, slipping an arm around Steve possessively.

"Not to worry, Jess," Kim replied with a grin, "I warned them all off. Though I did catch Ida Nowe checking out his butt once or twice."

"Ida Nowe? She was playing? What position?"

Kim and Steve exchanged a glance, and after a beat answered together: "Third base!"

After a brief, awk-weird silence, Kim asked Jess where the other three cheerleaders were.

"Tara and Liz are already getting dressed, and Bonnie is still at the beach, I think. She said she'd change over there."

"Someone should go there and find her, make sure she's coming," Kim suggested. "You know how Bonnie gets when there's a crowd of guys flocking around her."

"I'm on it, KP," Ron volunteered, and after making sure Mr. Barkin wasn't nearby, gave Kim a kiss and went on his way.

Jess and Steve also took the opportunity for a quick smooch, and then Kim and Jess headed for the changing room.

* * *

Ron looked around the beach, but saw no sign of Bonnie. He approached the small ladies' bathhouse from the side where there was an open window high on the wall, figuring she was probably changing in there. He was about to call out to her when he heard the mocking voices. 

"… you're doing it exactly backwards, Bonnie. You did all that work to plan the dance for today …"

"… but that Kim girl still gets the glory of being captain," a second voice finished.

"When Lonnie and I ran the squad, we made the other girls do the work for _us_ …"

"… we just gave the orders and stood in the spotlight."

"That's the Rockwaller way!" they said together.

Ron watched as a brunette and a blonde, both about 21 years old, left the bathhouse laughing. Ron didn't like the tone of that laughter; he'd heard it directed his way many a time over the years. He realized that the older girls had to be Bonnie's sisters, the 'home life' problems Kim had been talking about that morning.

"Oh, man, little buddy, those two are bullies, or I've never seen one," he said to the naked mole rat on his shoulder. "Poor Bon-Bon. Now I wish I'd never signed KP up for that talent show. They must've ridden Bonnie hard when she didn't win."

"Pah! Bullies!" spat the mole rat.

Ron made a decision."Kim was right. Making Bonnie co-captain would be good for her, and for the squad. Kim can handle her, and I'll have KP's back. What could go wrong?"

"Oh no," said Rufus.

Just then, Bonnie exited the bathhouse, looked around, and spotted him. The look she shot him could have frozen molten lava.

_to be concluded …_


	4. Chapter 4

Here it is, the fourth and final chapter. Sorry to delay so long, but it just wasn't flowing acceptably.

Thanks to the reviewers of chapter three, roycereece, AtomicFire, MrDrP, Amarin Rose, JPMod, Ultimate Naco Topping, WesUAH, whitem, momike, SHADOW DRAGON TWISTER, Newpoint, Commander Argus, Talitha Koum, conan98002, US.Steele, mattb3671, and spectre666.

Thanks to MrDrP for taking the time to beta read.

Disclaimer: These characters are property of Disney.

* * *

**_Kim Possible_  
**in

**The Mad Dog Picnic**

(An **_Essential Ronness_** Story)

by  
campy

**Chapter Four**

A mortified Bonnie Rockwaller glared at Ron. _Oh, this is just wonderful._

Glancing toward her retreating sisters, who were still enjoying their laugh at her expense, she strode over to him. "So, loser, how much of that did you hear?"

Ron nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, Bonnie, I just got here. Kim sent me to make sure you were ready—"

"Don't try and play me, Stoppable, you're no good at it. I know you've been here long enough. Go on, wallow in how you heard Bonnie the witch got slammed by her sisters."

"Huh? Dunno know what y–"

"Oh, I get it. You're doing the 'let's be all noble and let Bonnie save face and she'll feel better' thing." Angry, Bonnie shoved a pompom in his face. "Look, Stoppable, I'm not K. I don't need some goofball and his freaky pet watching my back. So whatever you think you're doing, just … just forget about it."

She stalked off in the direction of the Pavilion.

Ron sighed. "Well, Rufus buddy, good news, I think we brought Bonnie's Bon-ness back."

"Uh huh, Bon-ness."

"Bad news, uh, well, we brought the Bon-ness back."

* * *

Ron approached the Pavilion still unsure of how to proceed. 

It just wasn't in him to do nothing. No one deserved to be bullied like that, not even Bonnie. The little matter of the daily helpings of scorn she'd heaped on him since junior high, not to mention her explicit orders for him to stay out of her life loudly and forcefully delivered just a few minutes ago, would have deterred any normal person. But Ron Stoppable had never been normal, and he didn't really want to be.

Distracted, he accidentally bumped into someone.

"Watch it, freak!" Lonnie Rockwaller snapped.

Ron recognized Bonnie's sisters. "Sorry," he said.

"Loser," muttered Connie.

_Man, these two are something else. No wonder Bonnie's the way she is._ Then Ron had a flash of inspiration, born of his uncanny ability to remember anything Kim had ever told him.

"Say, you bon-diggity ladies are Bonnie Rockwaller's sisters, aren't you? I can really see the resemblance."

The two looked down their noses at Ron—in fact, they regarded him as if he were something unpleasant they'd accidentally stepped in.

"She's our sister, at least that's what we've been told," Lonnie said.

"… but if she's friends with someone like you, I really wonder about that," Connie finished.

Ron ignored the dig. "You must be very proud of her, to be such a big part of the cheer squad."

"Proud? Of Bonnie? Why?" Connie said with disdain.

"She's not even captain," Lonnie said.

"Well, the squad's won Regionals every year since she joined it, right? That's quite an achievement. What was it before that? Something like eight or ten years since the last time Middleton won?"

He let that remark sit out there for a moment, then continued as if it had just occurred to him: "Hey, didn't I hear that you two were cheerleaders a couple of years back?"

The older girls looked at each other, and then at Ron. First Connie, then Lonnie opened her mouth as if to reply, but neither could come up with anything. Ron smiled and walked away.

"Boo-yah," he said smugly. "That's Ron-man one, bullies zero." A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

"High five!" Rufus said, holding out a paw for Ron's finger.

"Now let's find KP." He headed for the Pavilion.

* * *

Ron was waiting backstage when the dressing room door opened and the cheerleaders filed out. When he caught sight of Kim dressed in her familiar cheer uniform, though, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. 

"Ron? You okay?" she asked, checking behind her for monkey ninjas or killer robots. She waved a pompom in his face. "Earth to Ron! Hell–o–oo."

Ron struggled to get his power of speech back. The last cheer practice of the school year had been held the day before the prom, so this was actually the first time he'd seen Kim in uniform since they'd started dating. She looked so amazing. He couldn't believe that he, once the loser that even the other losers used to mock, was actually dating Kim the head cheerleader, this dazzling exemplar of high school status.

"Whoa! KP, you are gorgeous!"

"Ronnie, you're so weird," she said, giggling. "You've seen me in my cheer uniform a thousand times, you should be used to it by now." She leaned closer, and let her voice go soft and sultry. "Besides, you've seen me wearing a lot less recently."

Visions of an angel in shimmery blue at the prom, of the crop tops and short shorts Kim had been wearing this summer, and the revealing bathing suits she'd sported on their beach outings swirled in Ron's mind's eye. Then he sighed as he recalled that memorable finals-week flight back home after their Dementor mission, when she'd unzipped the battle suit down to _there _and hoo boy what a plane ride that had been.

"Kim, I don't think I'll ever get used to how beautiful you are. I sure hope I don't."

"Well, I know I'll never get used to how cute you are, Ron Stoppable." She wrapped her arms around his neck and toyed with his unruly blond locks. "Mmmm, these ears, those adorable freckles … and that Essential Ronness of yours …"

He gently laid his hands on her hips and held her a few inches away from him, because too much body contact was so not called for at that moment, what with the other girls just a few feet away and Mr. B liable to appear any second.

They gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment. All thoughts he'd had of discussing the Bonnie sitch were completely gone from his mind. There were so many things other than talking he wanted to do with Kim; and no, I don't mean sneaking into a villain's lair. Not that crawling through HVAC ducts behind her wasn't a pleasant way to pass the time …

Fortunately for Ron, he had another head in his cargos that was actually up to the task of doing his thinking when his brain was deprived of blood. Rufus clambered out of his pocket and sank his claws into the tender flesh beneath Ron's MHS pullover.

That snapped Ron out of his reverie fast. "Gah! Rufus! What was that for?"

The little mole rat chittered furiously, pointing in turns at Ron, then at Kim, then at the other four girls—no, it was just one of them, the brown-haired one …

"Oh yeah, thanks, little buddy," Ron said. "KP, there's something I wanted to tell—"

Just then, on stage a whistle blew and the Mad Dog Band's percussion section launched into the drum riff that signaled the start of "Work It Out."

Bonnie signaled Liz to press a button on a CD player to begin playing the track on the sound system.

"C'mon K, move it, we're on," she said.

"Show time, Ron, tell me later. You get that mask on, Mad Dog." Kim quickly lined up with her squadmates.

* * *

Waving their gold pompoms, the cheerleaders ran out on stage and began their dance. Ron and his bon-diggity dance moves were to make their entrance late in the number, so for the moment there was nothing to distract the audience from the five beautiful girls in their midriff-baring tops and short skirts. 

Now, pretty much anything that attractive, physically fit girls in brightly colored cheer uniforms do is going to be appealing to men, and dancing more so than most. And when that dance has been infused with the Bonnie Factor, the excitement meter gets pegged. Bonnie Rockwaller was an expert in using the female body to its fullest advantage. The way she sat, the way she stood, the way she walked; all were designed to attract male attention. So it was only to be expected that a dance number she choreographed would be extremely … stimulating.

This one was, and these five girls possessed the tools to put it across in grand style. Within seconds, every male eyeball between 12 and 82 was glued to the stage. And the way the fathers of Middleton High's athletes were enjoying this show, it was a good bet some of the teens would be getting new baby siblings the following spring. Thus is the Mad Dog line perpetuated.

Ron joined the girls on stage for the last chorus, and the squad formed the pyramid they had rehearsed. Then the song was over.

The ovation was enthusiastic, to say the least. As the six scrambled to disassemble their pyramid, Ron attempted once again to get Kim's attention. No luck. They'd been told to remain on stage as the awards were handed out, three on each side. Ron made a move toward Kim, but she was already stationed between Tara and Bonnie at stage left. Liz and Jess pulled him over to the right with them as Mr. Barkin came out with his cordless microphone.

After a few moments, Barkin motioned for the audience to quiet down and began to call off a roll of award winners. The five smiling beauties (and one mascot) cheered and waved pompoms as each student athlete came on stage to collect his or her certificate and small trophy.

Ron was glad to see how visibly pleased with herself Bonnie was after the success of the dance. (It's probably a good thing he couldn't hear her attempts to needle Kim about how the redhead's slim frame compared to Tara's and Bonnie's more abundant endowments. His compassion for her sister sitch would have fallen off significantly. But Kim basked in the glow of her BF's appreciative gaze, and the brunette's taunts just rolled off her back.)

At last, the end of the program drew near.

"And finally," Steve Barkin announced, "the award for the Booster of the Year. This award is given in memory of a true leader, one of the finest Mad Dog athletes of all time, the first president of the Boosters Club—Mr. Charles Rockwaller. Presenting the award will be Charlie's granddaughters, past co-captains of the cheer squad, Connie and Lonnie Rockwaller."

Connie and Lonnie walked on stage, with Connie holding a brass and wood plaque. Ron looked across the stage and saw Bonnie slump perceptibly and the sparkle disappear from her eyes.

It was time, he decided, to shine a little Ronshine on the situation. He acted.

Pulling off his mask, he crossed the stage and took the microphone from Mr. Barkin's outstretched hand before a surprised Connie could reach it.

"Stoppable, what are you doing?" Barkin whispered.

"Excuse me, Mr. B, but I think all the Rockwaller granddaughters need to be part of this."

Ron continued to the other side of the stage. He took hold of Bonnie's arm. Dragging the wide-eyed girl to center stage, he turned and faced the crowd.

"Bonnie Rockwaller here is the one who planned that badical dance number you all enjoyed today. Everybody did enjoy it, right?"

"Yeah!" the crowd, especially the men, roared.

"I bet you'd all like to see to see more performances like that next year, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah!" they roared again.

Ron turned to Kim, who like everyone else on stage was wondering what was going on. He beckoned her to join him.

"Head cheerleader Kim Possible has an announcement she'd like to make at this time."

A very puzzled Kim approached the group. Ron cupped his hand over the microphone and whispered to her. "What you were talking about this morning, KP? It's time." He handed her the mike and stepped back.

Kim, looking around at the group on stage, recalled her own introduction to Bonnie's two sisters and understood that Ron must have experienced something similar. _He is one of a kind,_ she thought, gazing admiringly at her best friend/boyfriend. _As many times as Bonnie's put him down over the years, most people would love to watch her take it on the chin for a change. Not my Ron._

She took a deep breath, draped an arm over Bonnie's shoulders and spoke into the mike. "On behalf of the rest of the girls and Ron, I'd like to ask Bonnie to provide us with more great dance numbers next year from her new post as co-captain of the cheer squad. What do you say, Bonnie?"

Bonnie blinked in evident surprise. Then she began to regain her poise. "Pyramids?" she asked quietly.

Kim arched an eyebrow. "Half."

Bonnie grinned. "I accept," she said into the mike.

The audience applauded, the cheerleaders waved their pompoms. Connie and Lonnie, wearing strained smiles, clapped awkwardly.

Kim turned to Connie and, smiling sweetly, deftly relieved her of the award plaque, which she then handed to her new co-captain.

"Here, Bonnie. Why don't you present this award now."

Bonnie looked down at the plaque, then back up. "The Charles Rockwaller Award for Booster of the Year goes to Mr. Brock Flagg."

Brick's dad came up on stage and took the plaque from Bonnie as the audience gave them a standing ovation. Kim grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him into the wings as they watched Connie and Lonnie leave the stage, confusion and frustration evident on their faces.

Ron looked at Kim. "You're not mad, are you, KP? It's just, I overheard those two harshing on Bonnie about not living up to the big Rockwaller legacy, and I had to do something. It's bad enough having to deal with the kinds of bullies that used to pick on me, but to get it from your own family …" he shuddered. "That's just wrong-sick."

Kim wrapped her arms around her boyfriend and hugged him tightly. "Don't worry, Ron, I'm not mad. That's one of the things I love about you: that you're still willing to be a good friend to Bonnie, even with the way she's treated you. And I know you'll have my back if she starts gooning on her new power." She pulled back and looked at him with a wry grin on her face. "Just make sure when you're spreading the Ronshine around that the extra-special varieties go to me and me alone, 'kay?"

Ron looked befuddled. "Extra-special … Oh! I getcha. Have no fear, Kimila. As long as I get all the _mucho caliente_ Kimness, the extra-special Ronshine is all yours."

Kim smiled seductively. "You like it _mucho caliente?_ I got your _mucho caliente_ right here, Mad Dog …" she said, bringing her lips to his for a long, slow kiss.

* * *

The first small rockets of the fireworks show that was to conclude the picnic could already be seen bursting over the lake. The crowd quickly filed out of the Pavilion, eager to secure prime spots to watch. Bonnie was waiting on stage with Mr. Flagg while a photographer from the _Examiner_ set up for a shot. She looked over and saw Kim kissing Ron. 

She rolled her eyes. _Those two are so weird. It's gonna be a snap to push her out and take over the squad completely. I'm thinking … Homecoming Game, no prob. _

the end


End file.
